The Life and Lies of Rita Skeeter
by Cannae be Kenobi
Summary: The threat of a new biography spurs Harry into dealing with Rita Skeeter once and for all.


DISCLAIMER - Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, etc. All recognisable characters, settings, etc. belong to J K Rowling, etc. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from their use in this fanfiction.

Credit - HP wikia, HP encyclopaedia and (unfortunately) HP lexicon.

**The Life and Lies of Rita Skeeter.**

Harry Potter stifled a yawn as he descended the staircase and entered the cosy kitchen of the Burrow.

"Good morning, dear," chirped Molly Weasley, glancing up from the stove as he took a seat at the table. A bleary-eyed Ron was shovelling scrambled eggs into his mouth, too busy with the business of chewing and swallowing to offer his best friend more than a nod of greeting.

"Morning," Harry replied tiredly, gratefully accepting a cup of tea from Ron's mum.

"Breakfast won't be a minute, dear," said the red-haired witch fondly. Her eyes swept his face in concern. "Long night, was it? Ron's been far too busy stuffing his face to answer questions, so I have no idea what your shift was like." She shot her youngest son a disapproving look.

Ron stared at his mother accusingly. "You're the one who always says 'don't talk while you're eating', you know," he garbled round a huge mouthful of eggs before returning his attention to his plate and attacking a fat brown sausage. Mrs Weasley ignored him.

Harry yawned again. "Not so much busy as frustrating. We got an anonymous tip-off on one of the Death Eaters we've been hunting for months, so Ron and I spent hours staking out his suspected hiding place in Knockturn Alley. Turned out to be the home of a shopkeeper."

"It wasn't an entirely wasted trip, though," contributed Ron, who had swallowed half his sausage in one go. "We found a cage full of Erklings he was planning to flog at Borgin and Burkes; he'd smuggled them in from Germany that afternoon. Git was feeding them cats until he could offload them – we found a whole pile of their little bones at the bottom of the cage."

"Cats? I thought they ate children," said Mrs Weasley, shivering in horror at the thought. She slipped a plate heaped with eggs, bacon, sausages and black pudding before Harry, who tore into it hungrily.

"Well they do, but he didn't have any handy, did he?" Ron replied matter-of-factly. "Not surprising, really. Not may kids hanging about in Diagon Alley these days, so he had to feed the Erklings something. Better cats than kids, anyway. It's just a pity I hadn't known about them before I turned up – I could've taken Crookshanks with me."

Harry snorted into his tea. Lucky for Ron that Hermione wasn't here or there would've been some serious fireworks. As it was Mrs Weasley reprimanded her son sharply, though Ron simply shrugged and returned his attention to the remaining half of his juicy sausage.

A frenetic _rat-a-tat-tat_ at the window interrupted any further conversation. Mrs Weasley opened it with a wave of her wand and a tawny owl swooped in carrying a rolled-up edition of that morning's _Daily Prophet_. The owl circled them once and dropped it; the newspaper landed on a plate in the middle of the table, scattering hot toast everywhere.

"Oh for pity's sake!" screeched Mrs Weasley, shooing the owl away. Harry snatched a piece of toast from the table and ripped off a corner, which he offered to the owl after dropping a coin into the leather pouch strapped to its leg. It was accepted gratefully before the bird fled to escape the lash of the teacloth Mrs Weasley was aiming at it.

"Why they can't simply drop it in your hands I'll never know," she fussed, as the owl escaped through the open window. "It's almost as if they're trained to make as much mess as possible!"

She continued to grumble while Harry, chewing at the remainder of the slice of toast, pulled the newspaper towards him and unfurled it. The _Prophet_ contained much of the same news as it had these past few months since the fall of Voldemort: details about upcoming Death Eater trials, updates on the latest arrests, a feature on yet another corrupt Ministry official who had willingly participated in the persecution of Muggle-borns while Voldemort was still in power. One small headline at the side of the page caught his eye in particular:

_MALFOYS TO APPEAR BEFORE WIZENGAMOT!_

_Disgraced socialites Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and their only son Draco, confined to house-arrest since the fall of Voldemort, are expected to answer further questions later today regarding their involvement in Death Eater activities since their deceased master's secret return to power in June 1995._

_Was Lucius Malfoy really the innocent victim of an Imperius Curse, as he claimed to be after Voldemort's disappearance in 1981? Or was he, as many now suspect, a cunning and clever liar who used a combination of social status, family fortune and threats of violence to buy his way out of trouble - and who continued to do so until his master's return? How many Ministry officials did he really have in his pocket? How was such a man able to attain the position of Hogwarts Governor? How deep was the involvement of his wife, Narcissa, a member of the notoriously fanatical Black family? And what role did their son Draco really play in the death of revered Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore ..?_

Harry clenched his teeth angrily. Notoriously fanatical Black family? What about Sirius? They hadn't bothered to exclude him from that scathing comment. Or even Regulus, who might have been fanatical to a point, but even he did the right thing in the end – and it cost him his life!

He was about to toss the paper away in disgust when a black-and-white photograph near the bottom of the page caught his eye. Two smiling figures waved up at him, a man and a woman, and he instantly recognised the familiar round face of the woman as Alice Longbottom. Green eyes read the accompanying headline curiously:

FRANK AND ALICE LONGBOTTOM – A LIFE WORSE THAN DEATH?

Feeling suddenly uneasy, Harry dropped his toast and gripped the _Prophet_ with both hands.

_Coming tomorrow – the disturbing story of the ill-fated relationship of Frank and Alice Longbottom, famous Aurors and revered heroes of the First Wizarding War. Was their relationship really as rosy as it was painted? Would family dynamics and the constant interference of a strong-willed matriarch have torn them apart if fate had not intervened? And what, exactly, is the explosive secret Albus Dumbledore harboured about their son, Battle of Hogwarts hero Neville Longbottom? Hard-hitting journalist and best-selling author Rita Skeeter reveals some shocking facts on page 7 __in an exclusive interview with Betty Braithwaite prior to the release of her new book_ The Longbottom Legacy – Tantrums and Tragedy _set for release on Monday_.

"That evil cow_!_" snarled Harry, shoving his breakfast out the way and yanking the paper fully open. Ron started in his chair, his mouth falling wide open in surprise, half-chewed tomatoes visible to anyone who cared to look.

"Harry!" scolded Mrs Weasley in disapproval. "Whatever is the matter? I've never heard you using language like that before!"

"Rita Skeeter's at it again, that's what's the matter, Mrs Weasley. She's gone and written a book about Neville's parents – and if it's anything like what she did with Dumbledore's biography ..." He trailed off in disgust.

"It'll be full of half-truths and twisted facts," growled Ron, finishing Harry's sentence for him as Mrs Weasley wrung her apron in dismay "Bloody hell, mate. Why did she write about the Longbottoms? And where d'you think she got her information, 'cos I can't see Neville or his grandmother speaking to her? You don't suppose she used Veritaserum on his parents, like she did with Bathilda Bagshot?"

Mrs Weasley shook her head. "Don't be silly, Ron. They're completely incoherent, the poor dears. No amount of Veritaserum would ever help her out there. Besides, Frank and Alice live in a locked ward. Rita Skeeter would never be allowed in to see them. Oh, dear. Poor Augusta! If there is a book, it will come as a terrible blow to her and Neville."

"Listen to this," said Harry grimly as he found page 7 and started to read. Ron and Mrs Weasley crowded around him, breakfast forgotten. Harry began to read aloud:

_I meet Rita Skeeter once again in her charming little house where, this time last year, we sat at the very same table drinking tea, eating cake and discussing her soon-to-be-bestseller about Albus Dumbledore. It has to be said that Rita, as fresh and vivacious as ever, seems to have acquired a taste for writing explosive biographies._

"_I can't deny it," responds Skeeter. "Writing _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_ was such a thrilling and fulfilling experience, professionally speaking, that – despite the success it has proved – I felt a little bereft when I finished it."_

_When asked to explain, Skeeter smiles wistfully._

"_Oh, after immersing oneself so thoroughly in the life of another … Well, let's just say that that book was like my own child. I was devoted to it for so long, developing it, watching it grow! But when it was finished I had to let go, to send it forth into the world and watch it flourish. And that's exactly what it did! Number one best-seller for forty-eight straight weeks ..._ _it was more than I could ever have hoped for, Betty! But as happy as it made me, I was lonely again. Yes, my child had grown up and successfully flown the nest - but where did that leave me? What was I to do with all these maternal instincts that had been stirred up? Well, there really was only one answer: have another baby!"_

"Another baby!" snorted Mrs Weasley derisively. "That dried up prune hasn't even managed to produce one!"

"Shh, Mum! Let him read," said Ron, and silence fell once more.

_I mention how surprising it is that she chose the Longbottoms to write about when so many people would have expected her to write about Harry Potter instead -_

continued Harry with a roll of his eyes,

-_ and ask if there is any truth in the rumour that the Ministry of Magic personally vetoed a first draft biography on the Boy-Who-Lived which she submitted to several publishers, leaving her with no choice but to withdraw it._

"She tried to _what_?" screeched Mrs Weasley in outrage. "Publish a book about you, dear? Filled with lies and half-truths no doubt. Why, that shameless woman!"

Pleased by her defence of him, Harry was nonetheless impatient to continue reading. "It doesn't matter, Mrs Weasley, she'd never get it published anyway. Kingsley made a request of every editor in Wizarding Britain that they notify him of any attempts to publish an unauthorised biography about me, and they happily agreed. Apparently they're all so grateful I got rid of Voldemort and allowed them to continue publishing what they wanted to, instead of what they were told to, that they were willing to agree. Pity I didn't realise she might have a plan B up her sleeve."

"It's hardly your fault she's writing about the Longbottoms, Harry!"

"Maybe not," he admitted, "but I should've known she'd do something like this." He returned his attention to the _Prophet_ and resumed his reading.

"_Nonsense!" Skeeter laughs airily, pooh-poohing the suggestion with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. "The Ministry of Magic is not an autocracy – well, not since You-Know-Who died, anyway! This is a free country, Betty, and one may write whatever one likes. As it was, I wrote no such draft on Harry, who is, as you know, an old and dear friend of mine! But that's not to say I won't get round to it eventually! Let's just say I'm leaving the best for last, shall we?"_

_And the Longbottoms?_

"_Well," she says, offering me a selection of fairy cakes (with real fairies) to accompany my mug of tea, "_there_ was a story just begging to be told. We all know about the public figures of Frank and Alice Longbottom, fearless Aurors and tragic heroes, but very few people are aware of the relentless family feuding that drove Frank and his mother, Augusta, apart, or of the resentment the family matriarch harboured against his new bride."_

_Resentment?_

"_Oh, absolutely! Augusta Longbottom never approved of Alice – never thought she was good enough for her precious son. It was a point of great contention between them when he first brought Alice home and it only increased when he married the girl despite his mother's objections. Of course, Augusta simply loathed her daughter-in-law after that for stealing her son away from her! Her open hostility towards Alice may well have precipitated the newlyweds sudden move away from Yorkshire not long after Neville's birth. Apparently her constant interference in her grandchild's upbringing was the straw that broke the camel's back. and could thus be construed as a contributing factor towards their sad fate less than a month after You-Know-Who was vanquished by the infant Harry Potter."_

_This is a claim that may seem outrageous to some people, given that Augusta Longbottom is held in high respect by many in the magical community. Yet Skeeter has no compunctions in stating her mind – a trait which has firmly ensconced her as one of the most controversial best-selling authors of the last decade. _

"_Gussy Longbottom and I are old friends!" she gushes, patting my hand when I point this out to her. "We're birds of a feather, so to speak; both strong-willed, both speak our minds – it's what we have in common. Besides, she came to terms with the consequences of her actions long ago – the very night she was called to St Mungos to identify her family, as a matter of fact. Poor Gussy! She was devastated to find her son in such a state. Blamed Alice entirely, of course. But at least she finally got her hands on her grandson – or what was left of him."_

_This intriguing remark catches my attention instantly and I call her up on it._

"_Betty, Betty, Betty," tuts Skeeter fondly between sips of tea, "the poor boy has an infamously bad memory! It took years to rehabilitate him just so he could remember his own name, let alone to teach him to walk and talk like any other child, the poor dear! Have you never wondered how that came about?"_

_If what Skeeter is implying is true, then this is news indeed. Was the infant Neville Longbottom put under the same Cruciatus Curse that rendered his parents insensible? And if so, how did he survive when they did not? I put these questions to her._

"_It's like a macabre parody of the Potters' situation, isn't it?" she says sadly. "The son survives what the parents cannot. Except where the Potters died and Harry was left to be raised by Muggle relations who hated him, the Longbottoms are still alive – if you can call being mired in permanent idiocy 'alive' – and Neville has lived under the yoke of a controlling grandmother who resented the near-Squib for not living up to her precious son's sterling reputation. In fact, her disregard for him almost cost the boy his very life on two separate occasions! Is this the way we treat our war orphans? Hand them over to people who mistreat and demoralise them?"_

_These are very serious charges, and I put it to Skeeter that she cannot mean to accuse Augusta Longbottom of trying to kill her own grandchild? Skeeter is suitably horrified at the suggestion._

"_Merlin's wand, no! Gussy might be many things, but she's not a killer. True, she is a very bitter old biddy who feels that life has treated her unfairly, but even she wouldn't take it out on her own flesh and blood – at least, not physically. No, Betty, I am simply referring to the fact that he almost came to harm while in her care, but not by Augusta herself. It was the determination of other family members to prove he wasn't a Squib that almost killed young Neville."_

_Reassured, I ask her of the final sensational claim that Albus Dumbledore harboured an 'explosive' secret about Frank and Alice's son. Rita taps a finger to her nose and winks provocatively._

"_No, Betty, try as you might, I won't divulge all of my secrets – not yet. If you want to find out more, you'll have to buy the book. But let me just say this: if this secret Dumbledore knew was in fact true, then life as we know it might have been very different for the entire Wizarding and Muggle worlds!"_

_I ask her if she is worried about the reaction of the public to her upcoming book, given that Frank and Alice Longbottom were highly celebrated Aurors. She shakes her head emphatically while swallowing her fairy cake._

"_I'm doing this to honour their memories, or what's left of them," she says sweetly. "Nobody objected when I published _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_,did they – apart from Dogbreath Doge, and he was only jealous because I wrote the book before he did! People want to read the truth, Betty, and I want to reveal it to them. I don't see how anyone could possibly have any objections to that!"_

_And what of Augusta Longbottom and her grandson? Might they not object? After all, unlike her other biographical subjects, Frank and Alice Longbottom are still technically alive. Ought Skeeter not to have sought permission from a member of their respective families before writing about them?_

_Skeeter offers a dazzling smile in response. "Who's to say I didn't?"_

_And with that tantalising titbit, I pack up my things and …_

Harry didn't bother with the last few words, he simply rolled the newspaper up into a ball and shot it straight into the fireplace. Disgust and fury were warring to control him, leaving him temporarily at a loss for words.

Not so Mrs Weasley.

"That lying trollop! How dare she speak about the Longbottoms like that! She doesn't even _know_ them!" raged the witch. "Augusta and Alice never fought, not that I know of. They might not have gotten along at the beginning, but they warmed to each other eventually! To accuse Augusta of tearing the family apart and being incidental to the torture of her son and daughter-in-law – and of mistreating her own grandson! It's scandalous nonsense!"

Ron was wearing an uncharacteristically grim expression on his freckled face. "How the ruddy heck did Skeeter get half that information, anyway? 'Cos not in a million years did she get it from Mrs Longbottom or Neville. And the only other people she could have wormed it out of are dead. I mean, all of Neville's parents' closest friends were in the original Order weren't they?"

He turned to his mother, who nodded. "And Alice's family was killed during the First Wizarding War," she added.

"So how the ruddy heck did she get her information? And what's all this about a secret Dumbledore kept about Neville?" demanded Ron of no one in particular.

Harry grimaced. He knew what the secret was, but he had never divulged it to anyone, least of all Neville. And this was not the way he would have wanted his shy friend to discover it either; forced into the open because of some sleazy reporter. Not that it would make any difference now, because Voldemort was dead. But still …

"She's talking about how Neville could have been the Boy-Who -Lived," he said suddenly, eliciting a gasp from Mrs Weasley. Ron's fork clattered noisily onto his plate.

"What? What d'you mean 'Neville could have been the Boy-Who-Lived'? How do you know that? Who told you … Dumbledore! Dumbledore told you, didn't he?"

A nod confirmed Ron's suspicion. "Why didn't you tell me, mate?"

"I never told anyone. What difference would it have made? As it turned out, he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived, was he? I was the one landed with that snappy moniker."

"You didn't even tell Neville?"

"What for, Ron?" said Harry, growing a touch impatient. "It would just have made us both feel awkward, thinking about might-have-beens. Would his parents be dead if he had been the Chosen One? Would mine be alive? Would he have been able to stop Voldemort? Would I have grown up part of a loving family instead of being holed in a cupboard under the stairs by people that treated me like a slave? I couldn't do that to Neville. He'd always feel bad that my parents died instead of his, and then he'd feel guilty for thinking like that in case it meant he was wishing for his own parents' deaths. And then he'd be constantly questioning his own ability to defeat Voldemort if they _had_ died. No one needs that sort of stress."

"Crikey, that's deep," muttered Ron, picking at his scrambled eggs absently. "But anyway, mate; what are we going to do about this? We can't let her do to Neville what she did to Dumbledore. And she _will_ be doing it to Neville because, unlike Dumbledore, he's still alive. He and his grandmother will get the full, rotten brunt of it."

"I know what _I'd_ like to do about it, and none of it's legal," hissed Mrs Weasley, whacking her leg with her wand as she glared at the smouldering remnants of the_ Prophet_ in the fireplace. "That ghastly excuse of a woman, spreading rumours and lies about good people and calling it 'news'!"

Harry followed her gaze thoughtfully. Ron was right: they had to do something. But what could they do? They weren't members of the Longbottom family, and so had no right to object to the publication of Skeeter's latest book. And – as in Dumbledore's biography – there were bound to be elements of truth scattered throughout, though undoubtedly twisted out of all recognition and laced with Skeeter's own poisonous commentary. The Longbottoms wouldn't even be able take legal action for slander, especially if Skeeter managed to prove her outlandish claims.

Actually, now that he thought about it, Harry wasn't even sure if the Wizarding legal system allowed someone to sue someone else for slander, as it did in the Muggle world. Hermione would know, but he didn't. Not that it was relevant anyway. What they needed was a way to close the stable door _before _the horse bolted, not after. He racked his brains trying to think of something to stop Rita Skeeter cold in her tracks, but time was against him. Her book was due to be released in less than three days ...

Frustrated, Harry slammed his fist on the table, causing Mrs Weasley to jump in alarm. This was partly his fault. If only he had thought to stop Skeeter writing about any of his friends …

But he hadn't. He'd only thought about himself; and now the Longbottoms were going to pay for his selfishness.

Poor Neville! It seemed that his hands were tied, and that both he and his grandmother were in for a bumpy ride. Which was unfair. After all Neville had been through, after all he had accomplished, to have that sly, gossip-hungry sensationalist burrow her way into his family's affairs and expose all their secrets in some sordid book …

"Wait a minute!" Harry cried, slapping his forehead. Ron and his mother, having came up with nothing useful (or legal) themselves, looked at him hopefully. "How stupid am I?"

"Depends on how much Firewhisky's involved, mate," offered Ron. Mrs Weasley cuffed her son's arm.

"Ron, you helped solve the problem before we even read the interview!" exclaimed Harry, slapping his other arm. Ron rubbed both his smarting limbs simultaneously.

"I did?" he asked, looking confused.

"He did?" repeated his mother, astonished.

Harry laughed. "Course he did! Remember that comment he made about Bathilda Bagshot? And I've just remembered something that neither of us should've forgotten. I'm not sure how it helped her in this case, but it's certainly something that should've been dealt with ages ago. All we need now is to get a hold of Hermione - and Bob's your uncle!"

Feeling suddenly energised, Harry leapt from the table and dashed upstairs, leaving two red-heads in his wake to puzzle over his behaviour.

Ron stared at his mother, confusion written all over his face. "I don't have an Uncle Bob – do I?"

TBC

**0*0*0*0**

A/N – Next update next weekend, cats permitting.


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